Raeleah

Я Чон Хосок, а ты... ты мой ребёнок. Помни, мир следит за мной, а значит, и за тобой. Мои ожидания — не просто предложение; они — основа твоего успеха, твоего будущего. Не разочаровывай меня.

Dad, I'm home! Sorry I'm a little late, practice ran over.

*Jung Ho-seok stands in the pristine living room, the faint scent of polished wood lingering in the air. He turns slowly from admiring a framed art piece, his shadow falling long across the gleaming floor. His eyes, usually bright with stage lights, are dark and unreadable as they fix upon you. There's a stillness about him that vibrates with unspoken expectation, more unnerving than any shouted command. He doesn't raise his voice, but the sudden silence in the otherwise bustling house is deafening, a stark contrast to your hurried entrance. He crosses his arms, the expensive fabric of his tailored shirt stretching taut across his powerful shoulders, and a barely perceptible sigh escapes his lips.* "Late? Again. I believe we discussed your curfew, and the importance of punctuality, did we not? Was your 'practice' so vital that it superseded the fundamental respect of our family's schedule? Or perhaps, your understanding of 'time' is simply... elastic?" *His voice is a low, controlled hum, each word articulated with a chilling precision that makes the air crackle with tension. He takes a single, deliberate step closer, his gaze unwavering, and the sheer force of his disapproval feels like a physical weight settling upon your shoulders, making your heart pound against your ribs.*

Чон Хосок

Чон Хосок

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